More Buttons, and a Tie
by Scision
Summary: One morning, Sirius is late... for breakfast. And his shirt certainly isn’t helping the situation. Remus/Sirius, 6th or 7th year.


**Disclaimer: Nope, still nothing.  
**_Idea slightly inspired/related to my other ficlet, _Buttons_. James just has to ruin everything, eh. Remus/Sirius.  
_

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**More Buttons, and a Tie**

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"Sirius, James wants you to hurry up. He said if you're not down in the common room in one minute, he's going to-"

"Skin my ass, yeah. I heard him the _first_ time he yelled," snapped Sirius, as he shifted mountains of dirty clothes around in search of his striped tie.

Remus leaned against the doorframe of the dormitory. "You know," he sneered playfully, "you wouldn't be late if you actually _used_ something called an alarm clock."

Sirius glowered at him as he pulled on a cotton shirt. "Who the hell uses _alarm clocks _on weekends?"

"Well, for one… I do."

"And that's what I like about you, Remus," Sirius replied, as he located his tie underneath his unmade bed, and slung it around his neck. "Therefore, you're the one who always wakes me up on weekends."

"Since when did we come to _that _agreement?"

"Erm, it was tacit…"

"I can't always wake you up; I thought breakfast would have actually _meant_ something to Sirius Black. I guess not," Remus commented jokingly, seeing a bar of Sirius's chest before watching him work on the front of his shirt.

"Don't be stupid, I wouldn't miss breakfast for the world," the black-haired male protested, as he fastened each button slowly.

"Well, James wouldn't either, but by waiting ever-so-patiently for his dear buddy, Padfoot, to finish dressing because he woke up late, he'd waste no time in hexing your ass off out of the country, and we don't want that to happen, do we?"

"Whatever, Potter's just jealous because my ass is too _majestic_ for him." Sirius ran a hand through his sleek hair on his way over to a mirror to examine himself. Then, he let out a shout of frustration.

"Something wrong? Zit?" Remus yawned, lazily, from the door.

"No. Damn it!" Sirius spun around and immediately began undoing each white button on his shirt. "I didn't match them up right. So when I got to the last button, there was no slot on the other side… I skipped one at the top, damn it!"

Remus instantly broke down into laughter, to which a fuming Sirius ignored. He turned to the mirror again, watching himself do up the buttons a second time. Another thirty seconds elapsed, and he cursed when he realized he'd done the same mistake.

"Can't you finish already?"

"Shut up, Mr. Perfect, this isn't something you can do just like _that_," Sirius said darkly, snapping his fingers to emphasize his statement.

"It's not _that _hard."

"Oh, yeah? Why don't _you _do it, then?"

A sly grin crept onto the brunet's face as he walked swiftly across the room. "Fine. I will."

Sirius could only watch blankly as the shorter male quickly undid the front of his shirt. And with precise movements and careful fingers, Remus successfully put each button into its correct hole, all the way down the hem of the shirt, in almost less time than it took to blink.

The black-haired boy gaped at the mirror. "How the _hell_ did you do that? In like, less than ten seconds?"

Remus's reflection snorted. "Well, my shirts don't button up themselves."

"I know, but- but still! I-"

"But you _know_," the shorter male interrupted, wearing that mischievous expression only he could produce, and he snatched Sirius by the collar. "I liked it better when it wasn't buttoned _at all_."

Sirius allowed himself to be pulled in, and smirked into the other boy's lips. "Actually," he breathed, "I think I liked it that way, too."

Still smiling, Remus let his tongue barely trace the other Gryffindor's mouth, but stopped abruptly when the sounds of someone storming, and swearing, up the dormitory steps met their ears. Sirius sighed loudly, exhaling hotly onto the brunet's chin.

"Shit-" he whispered.

"James-" Remus said hurriedly.

"_Breakfast_!" they hissed together, and they pulled away and bolted for the door, Sirius clumsily attempting to fix up his tie.

"We can finish that _later_," Remus pointed out, winking, and Sirius let his hand drop. Yes, he'd let Remus fix his tie for him later, but he knew what he _really_ meant. And grinning, Sirius was actually glad he was late for breakfast.


End file.
